Recently Aaron told me he was going to San Francisco for a conference the day after my favorite day of the year (Halloween, obviously!) and I told him how horrible that would be, him not being home for Halloween. But I guess important conferences are important, so we decided the kids and I would celebrate Halloween in Seattle with my family and our old awesome friends. But that meant I had to get to Seattle with three kids. By myself. I am not sure where I thought that would be a good idea…
Although the kids were supremely well behaved, it was still a terrible traveling experience. First, the stuff! Why so much stuff?!?! Second, I feel like you should be allowed to grow at least two extra arms for every child you have. My kids stayed close, but for real. Third, we had all had the stomach flu, but I thought we were over it. As soon as we got on the plane and all settled, Sammy announced she needed to barf. And so she did. Luckily I am a skillful master who managed to procure a bag just in time. Oh, and did I mention she did that two more times during the flight? Delightful. Just imagine me holding a baby (who wanted nothing more than to get down on the floor and run away) and frantically trying to grab a barf bag and hold it in the right spot while comforting my sick child. So great! Sorry to anyone we grossed out.
The rest of the trip was good and less eventful. We had a fun Halloween with our Seattle friends, spent good times with my family, and were happy to be reunited with Aaron on Saturday morning. My family was extra nice and watched all three of our kids (the smallest spent half the time screaming) while we went to dinner at our most favorite restaurant in the United States. It was so so so tasty and wonderful. So wonderful that I hardly thought about my poor screaming baby. It is rough to be a third child. So I hear anyway.
This morning we got up “in the nighttime” and caught a plane back. And here we are. And we are never flying again. Just like every time. The end.